Somebody's Songbird @somebodyssongbird - Tumblr Blog

I touch the rings on my necklace So I can touch you You wear the same one It's cautious, steady I don't know how to touch you When you are far from me and blue But I finger the cool metal It's self soothing My way of soothing you too

#poetry

Arizona was a sandpaper throat Exiled palm trees looming Acting carefree while Bending in the apocalyptic dust

Turning the dinner plates over Mugs upside down in the cupboard City lights too dense for me No fire bird, only flickering neon

It promised me moon crystal clarity Then made me spit in the dirt Where is this oasis, I thought I kept searching through the red rocks

I drank a gallon of water that morning My mother wore a sweatshirt I wore a sweaty shirt It didn't dry until I returned home

#poetry

Each day this summer I went down to the beach Dug my fingers in the sand While seagulls watched

They would eat scraps Scatter trash While I touched pebbles Sometimes a sand dollar Mostly seaweed and salt

Looking for something Anything The tide would come in The gulls would fly home I would be hands deep Sucked in the wet sand

I would feel the coolness Of the earth In my fingertips and think "Yes, there. There you are."

#poetry

The soft quiet of your car, heat turned low November air brushing snow It's gray, it's a haven, you say "Take it in then let it all go"

You know that I'm thankful Just thankful for you Whatever you're grateful for I'm grateful for too

One flake, then the next Switch your headlights on Your hand on my knee, hush like dawn I'm speechless, November come and gone

#poetry

You are this wounded creature now Stark contrast from the Komodo Or the armadillo you've been before

Belly up and wriggling, eye to eye The hinting, the dancing Oh, how you and I love to dance

You say you are struck down Let me speak with you I suppose you still are the armadillo Rolled up tight, rolling away

We used to tango, now we tiptoe Is there a name for that? For touching the floor of devotion Without the violence of a ballerina?

#poetry

You are not bound to convention To expectation, to beauty Remember The guidelines keep changing

You do not have to measure yourself Or admire yourself only in isolation You can be both the wet clay And the potter's wheel

You are not what you make of yourself You are not your ambitions You are hands covered in paint Caked with vitality

Evolve, slip, be dirty Be the ugliest version of yourself That is the version of you I wrap myself around so completely

#poetry

Do drops of me cling to your atmosphere? I linger as mist in your indigo sky You no longer ask me for anything I'm still trying to promise you everything

#poetry

I die and my god dies with me There is nothing, only absence And him, divine silence

"Is this heaven or hell?" I ask him

He does not speak He screams I assume it is hell

He stops screaming The void is replaced with a prism He is shimmering, he is calm

"You create me to worship" He says "You create me to answer yourself"

I am dead and my god is dead There is only me and him There is only me, there is only me

#poetry

My horse is tired so he walks beside me We are not running away We know how to touch our silence now I hold his reins, they are slack in my hands

We are not running away So we stop underneath an apple tree He is eating fruit that smells a little too sweet I touch the bark and I listen, I listen

Shadows catch up to us like water We drift through the afternoon grotto My horse is still tired, I take off his bridle He is not running away

I carry my pack, I spot wild horses ahead There's a clearing and the sun is setting No one is running away As I carry on the wild carries him from me

#poetry

My dad says he hates the woodpeckers I ask him why He says they destroy the sides of houses I think Hearing their beaks hammer the boards They were home to the woodpeckers first

#poetry

I don't want to be full of life I glide through paradox Quietly savage Sharp with secrecy And tinged with decay

I am no pretty thing Do not paint me in color But if you must Use deep red Rich brown And a touch of pale green

Write me into the forest After the fire has torn through With skeletons, bright Gleaming white As though they are living Sitting upright, teeth bared

#poetry

I am standing with you by the edge of the water Holding your hands so gently in mine There's a breezy quality of comfort here While I graze my lips over the tip of your spine

Toes sinking a little into the sand Foamy ocean water washes over our feet I have known you in this life and last life before How lovely that we are always able to meet

Knee deep in the water, I am holding you tight I have always trusted you not to let go This ocean is vast, this ocean is deep It is never goodbye if you never say so

Waves are lapping at the hem of my shirt A shirt that I think you gave me last June Fingers laced together, squeezing hard I'm not surprised to feel you pull towards me so soon

I'm neck deep in the sea now, I'm calling your name I'm kicking, I'm treading, and you are not here Just a face I imagined over the years I've felt you at the water's edge so many times But these fingers are mine and the ocean's my fears

#poetry

I follow her down into the basement Because I am lost and she is not It smells of earth and musk and iron It is unfinished and the cement is cold The spiders watch us from their webs Intruders, they think, as we sit down

I start to cry as she takes my shirt off "Shh," she says, "I am here now" I cry harder as she kisses my chest "You are okay," she says, "I am here" I am alive again and she is warm

I lie beside her and I touch her She inhales and I keep touching her She cries out and I am crying with her She pulls me down into her and I kiss her I hold her hair back and my tears fall on her

"I am with you," I say, "do you want me?" She nods and she touches her face "Don't speak," she says, "look at me" The air feels damp, a pipe creaks I kiss her and kiss her and kiss her again I wipe my eyes and clasp her fingers I kiss her and kiss her and kiss her again

#poetry

Eons ago there was music in the temple The singers bathed in stained glass sunlight In the choir, building the myth into marble

Moss covered stones, damp in the walls She's playing her flute, serenading the halls

They all moved north, worshiping whales I'm in the pews where she sings to me Moss reclaiming rose panes of their history

#poetry

Pacing back and forth, barefoot on the rug It's static It's raw current There's static electricity between you and me now

It's self generated So I can't tell if it's a mutual sting Or if I alone move through a continuous thing It's all in my head now

And what if I never write a song again? I wrote lyrics I wrote with your pen I can't sing about you now, not without strings

I still play guitar, I gave up piano I'm pacing back and forth Barefoot on the rug There's always static between you and me

(I'm in your white noise, I don't haunt you I am a living, breathing psalm You are a far off soothing balm Read this however you want, if you really want to)

#poetry

I feel a kinship with birds and spiders One eats the other The smaller one is feared The larger one is adored

A bird is artistic and beautiful A spider creates beautiful art A spider catches its prey in the art A bird catches a spider for a little snack

#poetry

Step out into the wind with me On this frozen night That bears no snow

Do you know the meaning Of the cold? Do you know what it offers us?

Take my hand, you are safe Feel the subzero gust Feel the way it burns your face

I am shivering right beside you Are you alive Like I am on an icy evening?

#poetry

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